Life Part 8

Alot has changed. Love I had I cut away, for awhile anyway. I'm out on my own again. I'm happy about it but at the same time I wonder why I did it. I'm ignoring it for now.

Going on a road trip soon. Finaly. I don't really want to camp and listen to mom talk about how grate nature is. "Look at all this around you! Meditate on it." "Yea. Ok. That's grate, Ma." "You haven't even looked!" "Yup." "You don't care about anything and...." everything else she said is lost. I'm burried within my self again. Playing "Romeo and Juliet" in my head because I'm mad. I can't wait to go to the cities. That's where I want to live. A city. New York. Something like that. I'm digging threw music again. "Early one mornin' the sun was shinin' I was layin' in bed.." Man, I love Bob Dylan. He can sum up everything I feel. I wish I could write like him. Or let him know of my general exsistance. Something lke that.

-The Typist.

Drown in your eyes

When I first herd you my whole exsitance brightend.

I have something to live for.

Dawn bleeds into Sunset and then Night.

Laying in my bed.

Laying on an ocean.

Of my thoughts.

And I am cold.

And drowing.

Why won't you save me?

Why won't you take me?

Far far away....

There is a heavy rock tied to my feet.

Dragging towards the emtpiness.

Of shadows.

Of hallows.

Of nightmeres.

Make it go away.

Why won't you save me?

I want to die in your arms.

Drown in your eyes.

So lost and dark, like mine.

I want to kiss your face.

But I can't.

Because I am drowning.

Drowning.

In the hallows of my mind.

And all I wanted was to drown in your eyes.

Play with scissors

A hand on my neck.

Digging.

Clawing.

Grasping.

Stop! Please!

Strange fingures creep over pale skin.

What's going on?

The ash fell from my lips into a pool.

A pool of blood and ice.

I fell back into the strangers body.

Only to fall into cold water.

It cut.

Like scissors

on paper

on hair

on my skin.

I love to play with scissors.

RINGO!!!

I went to see Ringo Starr in Mississippi this weeekend. HE WAS SO AWESOME!!! Nothing more.

- The Typist

Life Part 7

I fell out of bed because the phone rang. It scared me. I'm always startled so easily! I answerd with a grumble and groan then hung up. It wasn't important. I fall back on my floor and grab my ipod. You know, I don't think I could live without this thing. Well, music I mean. I turn on The Ramones. Ahh, bliss. I always listen to them in the morning. I love Joey Ramone! I wanted to name my cat Joey but mom said that "was a stupid name" Psssht... she has no idea. So we agreed on Ramonea. This would probably make a funny picture...

Picture if you will, dear reader, a short girl with a bedhead of a moptop in jeans and a really old, really fadeded full of holes, Bob Dylan tshirt curled up in a ball by portible speakers, eyes closed in thoughts listening to "I Want You Around". That's me in the morning.

- The Typist

Death at Tea Time

Oh! To take tea with you, dearest.

To laugh and dance without a care.

And yet... somehow I wish I was dead.

I should be lucky to lay in his bed...

But I'd be safer in a grave instead!

If you love me I fear I won't fallow.

I have better to love, kiss and keep under cover.

But having tea with you is pleasing to me.

And yet some would be lucky to lay in his bed yet somehow....

I wish I was dead.

Life Part 6

I had tea with friends today. It was fun. Much cake and talk was had. I've been starting to hurt more and more each day. He haunts me still in my dreams. I get mad so i start to chip at the black paint on my nails. I hope I'm not on the verge of a brake down. I turn on some Emilie Autumn and mutter along with her while I strach and nip the paint away.. strach and nip my pain away.

"Oh what pretty dresses I'll have...." The song is wonderfuly frighting and sickening. I sip my tea and dream about scuicide. "I did what any girl would do... And when I'm beheaded and least I was wedded and when I am married at least I was burried..." Another sip "I'll fuck who I choose for I have nothing to lose." And another and another. I burt my lip on the hot brew. "What lovely dresses and hair... I'm lucky to share his bed... why do I wish I was dead?" I ponder the song for a moment then realize its self explainitory. I sing alone the best I can then stop realizing that its pointless. I fall back "God he's ugly but the fourtune he has..." I laugh at the line. The song "Marry Me" has always made me laugh... I don't know why. I think to much. I strach at my nails again revelaing there pale skin from the black cloaks that they hide under. I sat up then fell back again. Smack. I looked at my cleaning deep in thought... my fingure tips were sore... I was sore. Ugh. Am I to pale? Why won't my head shut up? Why won't I just shut up! Gahh... Now I'm mad. Wonderful. I drink my tea. It's not so hot now. I drink it gratefuly. "In times of sarrow... tea is the answer" as i remeber Oscar Wilde saying something along thoes lines. I wish I could have tea with him! But he'd fine me boring I'm sure. Oh well! Now I must go! The game is afoot!

- The Typist.